


Learning to Let Go

by Fangirlshrewt97



Series: Geralt Whump Week 2020 Fills [4]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon, But I Promise The Story Is Good, Cinnamon Roll Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon, Dadskier, Established Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Forehead Kisses, Geralt Whump Week, Geralt has abandonment issues, Hurt/Comfort, Jaskier is a great dad, M/M, Overprotective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Prompt: Betrayal, Swordplay, Whump, father-daughter bonding, geralt has trust issues, i know the tags might be confusing, seriously Geraskier is so soft in this, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:40:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25071034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fangirlshrewt97/pseuds/Fangirlshrewt97
Summary: Basically, Ciri wants a chance to go out and see the Continent on her own, Jaskier and Yen take her side, and Geralt feels betrayed. But he comes around. Eventually.Excerpt:“I give her every freedom. I am sorry I prioritize her safety over a desire to see her killed because she…she wanted to frolic in a flower field for two days!” Jaskier winced. Geralt had been getting better at communicating his thoughts and talking through any problems they had, but he still had not quite managed to learn tact yet.“Fuck you Geralt! That girl has been through enough. Hunted for the better part of the last six years, she needs space!”Jaskier stopped listening when he heard a quiet sniffle from nearby, and a quick look found the source. Ciri was curled up on the floor near one of the tapestries, hidden in shadow. She had her head between her knees and had wrapped her arms around herself.Geralt Whump Week Day 4, Prompt: Betrayal
Relationships: Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon & Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion & Vesemir
Series: Geralt Whump Week 2020 Fills [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1812871
Comments: 16
Kudos: 74





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Dear Reader,
> 
> I really liked how this story ultimately turned out, and I hope you do too. I have finished the story, but due to time constrains will be posting it over three days. Enjoy the first two chapters today.  
> And again, I love hearing back from all of you, so please let me know what you think of the story, whether through kudos or comments (which can include one word, keyboard smashes, or favorite lines).
> 
> None of these characters belong to me, I am just borrowing them temporarily.
> 
> Thank you so much,
> 
> Fangirlshrewt97

“Absolutely not!” The shout echoed through the halls of the keep, ringing loud enough for even Jaskier, with his human ears to pick up a floor down.

“What did the witch propose now?” Lambert asked as he dumped the wood he and Jaskier had brought for the night into the space next to the fireplace.

“Something I had a feeling Geralt would vehemently oppose.”

“You were right on the money magpie.”

Jaskier growled at him and trudged upstairs, pretending to not hear Lambert’s “The White Wolf is rubbing off a little too much on you lark!”

He did not know whether to be grateful Yennefer had been considerate enough to wait until after supper to have this conversation. But honestly, this was always going to be the outcome, so the timing wasn’t really the issue, was it?

At the top of the stairs, the volume was almost ear splitting.

“-you are the stubbornest man on the continent you bastard, you think you can keep her prisoner to your side for the rest of your life?” Yennefer snarled back, venom dripping off her words.

“I am not keeping her prisoner!” Geralt roared.

“You aren’t letting her be free either!”

“I give her every freedom. I am sorry I prioritize her safety over a desire to see her killed because she…she wanted to frolic in a flower field for two days!”

Jaskier winced. Geralt had been getting better at communicating his thoughts and talking through any problems they had, but he still had not quite managed to learn tact yet.

“Fuck you Geralt! That girl has been through enough. Hunted for the better part of the last six years, she needs space!”

Jaskier stopped listening when he heard a quiet sniffle from nearby, and a quick look found the source. Ciri was curled up on the floor near one of the tapestries, hidden in shadow. She had her head between her knees and had wrapped her arms around herself. Jaskier approached slowly and sunk down next to her, wincing as his knees cracked. He may not look his age, but his body let him know it daily. He shifted until he found a comfortable position, leaving both legs stretched out in front of him and leaned back against the wall. Ciri sniffled.

“Darling.” Jaskier intoned softly, voice pitched low so the Witcher nearby wouldn’t hear him.

Ciri stayed as she was. Jaskier sighed.

“Darling, look at me. Please?”

Glassy, tear-filled azure eyes looked at him, making his chest ache. Ciri had grown into the beauty Jaskier had always known she would be, high cheekbones, piercing blue eyes, and full, pink lips. Her hair had turned more ashen, now she matched Geralt even more, and the silver shined as gold in the dark of the hall with just a torch illuminating it nearby. Jaskier cooed. “Oh, dear heart, none of that, come on.”

Ciri did not need much more incentive, throwing herself against Jaskier, wrapping her arms tightly around his shoulders and tucking herself under his chin. Jaskier hummed and wrapped his own arms around her, tugging her close, until she was half in his lap, knees resting against his chest.

Jaskier petted her hair, running his fingers through the loose strands before pressing a long kiss to the top of her hair. “My little lion cub. You are far too brave to be sitting here in a corner.”

“He is so angry with me, Jask.”

“He will get over it.”

“But-” Ciri’s voice wobbled, so insecure, and Jaskier felt the strongest urge to march into the room and shake Geralt. Or maybe just hit him over the head with his lute.

“Dearest, I have known him for longer than you have been alive. Trust me on this one. He will come around to seeing reason. He wouldn’t be the great Geralt of Rivia if he made a smart choice now would he? Always got to be stupid first.”

Ciri snorted wetly, using her sleeve to clean away her nose.

“Now, be a good girl and trust your Jask and Yen to get the old man to realize the truth ok?”

“I don’t want you to have a fight over me.”

Jaskier laughed, moving her away until he could see in her eyes. “Cirilla, listen to me carefully ok?” he waited until she nodded. “Geralt and I have fought over everything and anything in our many years together, and believe me when I say that fighting over you will never be a thing I will regret. You are the most precious thing in the world to me, my love.”

“Even more than your lute?”

“Oh dear heart, I would break a hundred lutes over Geralt’s head if I thought that alone would get him to see sense.”

Ciri laughed, and wiped her tear-stained face before smiling brightly at him. Jaskier grinned back fondly.

“Now there is my girl. I suspect Yen is about to storm out of that room in about two minutes, so why don’t you head for safety and ask Uncle Lambert for a spar?”

“You think a spar with Uncle Lambert is safe?”

“Oh please, Lambert is a pussycat with you.”

“I’m telling him you said that!” Ciri declared as she jumped up and extended a hand to Jaskier. Jaskier groaned as he was hauled upward.

“I am getting too old for this. Go. Scamper!” Jaskier said as he waved Ciri downstairs. He waited until he heard a crash and a yelp, most likely from Ciri having tackled Lambert. Another crash.

Jaskier sighed. He had hoped they would take the spar outside, not do it in the dining hall.

Brushing off the dust in his trousers, Jaskier adjusted his doublet and walked over to the bedroom he shared with his Witcher.

He was about to grab the door handle when it swung inward, revealing a severely angry Yennefer on the other side, eyes blazing. Jaskier swallowed. She was still a terrifying sight.

“Yen-”

“See if you can make the idiot see sense, buttercup.” Yennefer growled as she shoved her way out, presumably to her room to stick pins in the doll she kept of Geralt for these exact occasions.

“Um…” Jaskier trailed, watching her stomp up the stairs. “Right.”

Taking a deep breath, he walked into his room, softly closing the door behind him. Geralt was a solid line of tension at the window, stiff enough a ram wouldn’t be able to knock him over. Jaskier sighed. He loved his family, beyond reason, but they were all so very stubborn. Himself included.

“Geralt.”

The Witcher stayed quiet, standing against the glass panes, and when Jaskier gave him a once over, he saw the man’s hands were trembling.

The bard let him be, taking off his boots and doublet, anticipating where this would hopefully end. And by that he meant a lovely snuggled in their warm bed, and not Geralt walking away into the cold of the evening, because Jaskier was not looking to put his clothes back on.

Hissing to himself at the chill that had seeped into the cold tiles of the room despite the crackling fire, Jaskier stumbled over to Geralt, slowly looping his arms in between Geralt’s to hug him from behind, resting his forehead against the Witcher’s shoulder blades.

Geralt was wearing his customary black shirt and trousers, boots still a little muddy from where he had gone out that day to hunt.

The pair stayed quiet for a while, Jaskier absently tracing small circles where his fingers hung next to Geralt’s hips. Gradually, the tension drained out of Geralt, perceptible only because Jaskier literally had him in his arms.

“Ciri wants to leave us.” The Witcher spoke finally, so faint Jaskier had to strain to hear him even from this proximity. Jaskier gave him a squeeze.

“No she doesn’t. Come on White Wolf. Tell me properly.” Jaskier said.

Geralt was so smart about the world, but incredibly dense about people and their hearts. But even he should know better than to doubt their daughter’s love for them.

“My love.”

Geralt exhaled with great effort. “Yennefer told me that Ciri came to her.”

“Hmm.”

“Apparently Ciri wants to go out to the world on her own, wants to visit some of the nearby towns, explore the Continent.”

“Hmm.”

“Ciri didn’t want to tell me though, so she sent Yennefer.”

“Hmm.”

Geralt stiffened in his arms. “You knew all this already and you hid it from me.” he accused.

Jaskier sighed. “That last point isn’t quite right.”

Geralt shifted, and Jaskier loosed his hold just enough for Geralt to spin inside his arms so they were chest to chest.

“Hello.”

Geralt looked somberly at him. Jaskier supposed he should be happy the Witcher wasn’t glaring at him, but he looked oddly defeated and Jaskier hated that look.

“Geralt, are you angry with me?”

Geralt continued to look at him. Another eternity passed in the glance between them, before Geralt sighed and brought his own arms up to hold Jaskier, pressing the bard closer.The younger man let himself be handled, settling comfortably into Geralt’s chest. He inhaled the scent of sweat and musk, and the deeper earthy smell that clung to Geralt’s skin. “I am not angry with you.”

The Witcher’s heartbeat was a slow steady drum beat under his ear.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?”

“Don’t know. Feels appropriate?”

Geralt huffs. “No better sign of your maturity.”

“Hey!”

“It’s a compliment little lark.”

Jaskier separated just enough to look his Witcher in the eye, feeling his heart start to race at the fond smile on the Witcher’s face.

Jaskier felt his breath catch in his chest.

“She doesn’t want to leave you.”

Just like that, the glow in those golden cat eyes went out and Geralt took a step back, leaving Jaskier’s arms and moving to stand by the hearth instead. Jaskier let him go, feeling cold at the sudden loss of body heat. An ache bloomed in his chest.

They stood like that for a breath, Jaskier in front of a cold window, looking out at white-capped hills, a flurry starting up as wind blew through the mountains. In the half-reflection of the glass, he saw Geralt move to his side of the bed, sitting and bending, likely unlacing his boots.

Jaskier waited until Geralt had settled into bed, on his side, back to him.

Only then, he moved and removed his doublet, setting it on the nearly desk before climbing into bed as well, laying so he was staring at Geralt’s back. The man was wearing both his shirt and pants to bed. Jaskier could not remember the last time he had done so. An extra layer of armor, even between them. The ache grew.

Jaskier laid a tentative hand on Geralt’s hip, and felt only marginally better when Geralt did not push his hand away.

Swallowing past a lump, Jaskier closed his eyes, feeling as though a gorge was between him and his beloved. And he was stranded on one side without a bridge during a hailstorm, his voice lost to the wind.


	2. Chapter 2

A particularly loud gust of wind that rattled the windows woke Geralt up. He blinked around the room. It was nearing morning, he could just make out the first few rays of sun struggling to rise above the mountains. The room had grown cold, the fire having died out a couple hours ago. Next to him, Jaskier sniffled, rolling closer to Geralt. At some point in the night, they had moved and now Geralt was on his back, Jaskier cushioned on his chest. Geralt raised one hand to stroke Jaskier when the events of last night came flooding back. A heavy weight settled in his chest. Moving slowly so as to not awaken Jaskier, Geralt climbed out of the bed, tucking the blankets around the bard. He moved around the room, putting on his clothes and armor. Vesemir had been mentioning that one of them should go for a hunt when the storm cleared, they were running low on meat. Yesterday he had only managed to find a small doe, it would only last them two days. Besides, killing something sounded really tempting right now. He placed logs on the fire, restarting it with an Igni, and then making sure Jaskier would wake up warm, he exited.

Vesemir was already awake, the eldest wolf had a tendency to rise with the sun even in the depths of winter.

“What was your fight with the sorceress about Geralt?” He also had an irritating tendency of seeing exactly where a sore spot was and poking it mercilessly.

Geralt grunted. “Nothing of importance.”

“Boy, I raised you. You think you can lie to me?”

Geralt growled. “Let it be Vesemir, I am going hunting.”

Geralt exited before Vesemir could reply, slamming the door to the castle once he was outside. The winter air was completely crisp, the breeze cutting him through to the bone.

Trudging the snow, he exited the keep, deviating left to walk the small shortcut that let him descend into the valley quicker, reaching the thicket of forest within half and hour. He found a clearing just inside the thicket. He cleared the largest tree trunk he could see of snow, and sat down. His cloak got wet but not enough to cause too much discomfort. He did a breathing exercise to try and quiet his mind, but he kept thinking back to the fight with Yennefer.

_“Geralt, Ciri wants your permission to go out and explore the continent.”_

_“Are you out of your mind Yen? It is too dangerous.”_

_“You are being ridiculous, she has grown Geralt, she needs a chance, no she deserves a chance to see the world.”_

_“Nilfgaard may be defeated, but they weren’t the only danger out there.”_

_“Lecture me on the dangers of the world to a beautiful young lady, go on, tell me how the world works.” Yen had replied, venom starting to tint her words. Her eyes burned hotter than the blaze in his hearth._

_“That isn’t what I meant and you know it.”_

_“Are you planning on keeping her chained here forever then Geralt?”_

Fuck. How had things gotten so out of hand. And then Jaskier. He had expected the bard to be surprised, to be on his side, to help him make the girls see reason. But Geralt had seen it in his eyes when he entered the room. Jaskier knew. He knew and he lied, and he took their side.

Why couldn’t they see? They had fought so hard to be safe, and now that they had had a taste for safety, did they think all the dangers disappeared.

He knew Ciri was growing up, he saw her training with his brothers, he saw her magic with Yen.

But he also saw her with Jaskier, curled up in his bed, her head pillowed on the bard’s lap as he pet her hair and read her stories to put her to sleep. He saw her helping that bird with the broken wing throughout the spring, and how happy she had been when it managed to fly by winter.

Did they think he was keeping her prisoner?

Was he?

He would never force Ciri to stay if she didn’t want to. She had earned her right to do as she wished. Her life had been stolen from her, but she managed to steal it back and build an even better one. Was he standing in her way? Why had she gone to Yennefer and Jaskier? Did she not trust him?

A broken twig to his right made Geralt jump from where he had been getting lost in his thoughts, the jolt of adrenaline sending him into fighting mode. But the origin of the sound was a truly minuscule rabbit that Geralt knew Ciri would be upset by if he killed. He shook his head to clear his thoughts.

Breathing deeply, Geralt closed his eyes, focusing entirely on his hearing. In the winter morning, most things were still asleep, and the only leaves that rustled were due to the breeze. But then, there, in the distance, he heard the sound of steps. Concentrating harder, he heard the steps of deer. Face set in a grim mask, Geralt took off in their direction. He had dinner to catch. Everything else could wait.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is happening at the same time as Chapter 2, just following those in the castle while Geralt is out on the hunt.

The next morning, Jaskier woke to cold sheets, but at least the room was warm, the fire having been restarted. Jaskier stretched, wincing at the cracks that seemed to increase in number with each year. Letting out a heavy exhale, Jaskier put on his heavy cloak and wandered out of their room, heading to the dining room.

Vesemir was the only one at the dining room, but Jaskier heard the sound of swords clashing outside the keep doors, which meant that Ciri was training under the supervision of her family.

“Good morning Vesemir.”

“You are up later than usual little lark.”

“Old age makes the bed your best friend.”

Vesemir hummed, but when he turned and placed the leftover loaf of bread and butter in front of Jaskier, he detected a smile.

Vesemir settled opposite the bard. “Want to tell me why Geralt raced out of the keep this morning like a dragon was on his heels? With an expression like he drank a batch of Lambert’s alcohol?”

Jaskier looked off to the side, biting his lip. He had not expected Geralt to have been alright with everything when he woke up, but Jaskier had hoped Geralt would be willing to talk at least.

“Little lark.”

“It’s stupid.”

“Most likely. For all that he has lived two human lifetimes, Geralt exhibits none of the wisdom of those years.”

Jaskier sighed and looked at the Witcher patriarch in the eye. Those golden eyes that reflected a wisdom of centuries gone by, that had seen the world turn and change to leave him behind. Yet Vesemir had not let that bring him down. He had just kept moving, doing the duty he had accepted so very long ago.

“Ciri wants to explore the world. Yennefer told Geralt she doesn’t want to go without his approval. Geralt was not happy and expressed his disapproval vehemently.”

“And he is angry with you because?”

“I knew Ciri wanted freedom but I didn’t tell him.”

Vesemir hummed again. He took a sip of the tea he had brewed for himself. When he didn’t immediately say anything, Jaskier slumped on the bench and started eating. The sounds of metal clashing seized for ten minutes before being replaced with the sound of flesh hitting the stone of the keep’s wall.

Jaskier winced. He loved watching the Witchers and Ciri train, their Signs in particular fascinating to him. He loved them all so dearly though, and training involving Signs was anything but gentle. The first time he saw Eskel throw Geralt against a wall so hard he shattered one of Geralt’s ankles when he landed, Jaskier had to excuse himself to regurgitate his breakfast in private.

The bard was nearly done with his food before the old Witcher spoke up again. “My son is an idiot.”

Jaskier looked at Vesemir.

Vesemir met his gaze steadily. “He means well, and I understand his fears but he is an idiot. I will talk to him when he returns from the hunt.”

“I don’t think that will make this situation any better Vesemir.”

“Well then its a good thing I am not asking for your permission to talk to my own son then, isn’t it?”

The old Witcher left before Jaskier could respond, leaving the bard to run through all the possible increasingly distressing outcomes of that conversation. It was the middle of this pondering that the door from the training grounds opened, letting in a winter chill.

“Jask! You just woke up?” Ciri said as she bounded inside and threw herself beside him. Her skin was shining with a thin sheen of sweat, smelling strong enough for even Jaskier’s nose. But her eyes were shining and her smile lit up the whole damn keep, and Jaskier was helpless against his daughter in all the ways that mattered. Ciri looked good happy. She should always be happy, screw Geralt, this was a fight Jaskier was not willing to back down from.

Reaching out, Jaskier ruffled the top of her head, laughing when she caught his hand and scowled an indignant “Jask!”

“Cub, keep training like that, and you will have Lambert face down on the grass more often than not!” Eskel exclaimed as he came into the hall, Lambert wearing a frown that was only half sincere, their pride in Ciri’s progress obvious in their eyes.

Ciri laughed. “Uncle Lambert looks good with his ass in the air.”

The three men looked at her scandalized, making her laugh harder, thumping the table. Narrowly avoiding a knock to the head from Jaskier, she ducked down the incoming arm and stood behind Jaskier. “I am going to go have a bath, no one come near the springs for the next hour alright?”

“You can’t hog the hot springs Cub! You know the rules!” Lambert called out as he walked to Jaskier, settling in heavily against him, Eskel settling in the seat Vesemir had vacated.

Jaskier had a mischievous edge to his smile that made Lambert preemptively scowl, making the scar across his eye more prominent. Too bad Jaskier had stopped being scared of Witchers many decades ago.

“Not a word bard.” Lambert snapped out.

Jaskier just grinned wider and opened his mouth. From there, Jaskier and Eskel spent the next hour ribbing Lambert playfully before moving on to swapping stories of their most recent year on the Path, and about how far Ciri had come since she first arrived at the old keep. It was inevitable that Geralt’s opinion of her progress came up, and Jaskier confided the recent fight with them.

“He does not think Ciri is capable?” Eskel asked, eyebrow raised as he drunk the ale he had procured from the conversation.

“This is what he was fighting the witch about yesterday? He is a fucking idiot.”

Jaskier sighed. “He is worried. I don’t blame him. Look, just don’t tell him anything until I get a chance to properly talk with him ok?”

Both Witchers nodded, understanding the sincerity in Jaskier’s request. Jaskier exhaled. “Thank you. Vesemir said he will talk to Geralt when he returns from the hunt.”

Lambert snorted as he chugged his own ale and stood up to refill his cup. “I remember Vemesir’s chats. Make sure Geralt is still not smarting from bruises in the ass before you talk to him.”

Jaskier grimaced, swiping Eskel’s tankard and finishing it before staggering to stand up. “I am going to be in our room, because there is a good chance Geralt will come there after his talk. If he doesn’t can you fetch me?”

Eskel nodded. “Sure little lark.”

Lambert mumbled into his own cup, “Sure you don’t want him to leave you alone?”

At Jaskier’s look, Lambert shrugged. “Your mistake.”

Jaskier spun around and went to his room. Once there though, he grew restless, shifting from plucking at his lute to trying to come up with lyrics and nearly tearing the page in frustration to pacing the floor until he was sure he was going to carve his path into the stone. It was as he was debating the merits of standing naked with the window open that Geralt came into the room, catching him in front of the open window with his hand down his pants.

There was a moment where they both looked at each other before Jaskier squawked and yanked his hand out, stumbling and hitting his head on the window. At which point he yelled and hit his elbow, growled in frustration and ultimately ended up on the floor, throbbing in four different places, the cold biting into him and exacerbating the pain rather than dulling it.

Geralt watched this all happen.

Correction: He didn’t stop it from happening. Asshole.

It was as Jaskier sat on the floor, trying to rub against all the wounds at once that Geralt sighed and entered the room, closing the door behind him. He also closed the window doors, placed a hand flat on top of Jaskier’s head to stop him from getting up. He kept the hand there as he locked the window closed. And kept it there as he pulled his cloak from the nearby chair and threw it on Jaskier.

Jaskier bit out a mumbled ‘Thanks’ through lightly chattering teeth. The bard got cold too easily. 

Geralt stayed standing as Jaskier shifted against his legs to shrug on the cloak. He tightened his hold on Jaskier’s hair when the bard tentatively wrapped a hand around Geralt’s ankle and leaned against his knees. Jaskier closed his eyes and let himself sag a little more against Geralt, content to stay at his feet, especially once Geralt started to lightly comb his fingers through Jaskier’s hair.

“Vesemir talked with me today.”

Jaskier slowed opened his eyes, but stayed where he was. Geralt continued to pet him.

“Did he?”

“Don’t lie to me Jaskier. Not more than you already have.”

Jaskier sighed. “He told me he was going to talk with you after you got back from the hunt.”

“Did he tell you what he was going to tell me?”

“No.”

“Hmm.”

Geralt stayed silent after that for a long while, and Jaskier knew he was organizing what he wanted to say. Geralt was great at many things, but struggled to put his thoughts into words. He stayed where he was, ignoring the chill creeping into his legs as he traced abstract patterns over trousers.

“You will freeze, let’s go to bed.” Geralt said suddenly, shifting and putting both his arms around Jaskier’s biceps before pulling him off the floor. Jaskier groaned as his knees creaked, and his elbow gave a hard throb.

Geralt held him pressed chest to chest, both staring at each other’s faces. Geralt’s silent and passive, with eyes that held a storm of confusion. Jaskier’s face open and pleading with his lover to see him, bare and honest.

Geralt took a step back, the foot of space feeling as deep as the gorge outside the window, and moved them to the bed. They settled on opposite corners, Jaskier wrapping the cloak tighter, clutching the fabric and taking a breath of his own, inhaling Geralt’s scent. He wanted to burrow into it, burrow into the man in front of him, drown him in apologies, beg him not to break Jaskier’s heart.

“Does she think I am keeping her in chains?”

Jaskier blinked and looked at Geralt in confusion. “What?”

Geralt had that expression where the words were not coming out properly like he wanted them to. “Ciri. Does she think I am holding her back?”

“Geralt, no. Dear heart, that is not at all what is going on here.”

“Then explain to me why my own daughter is scared of talking to me!” Geralt bit out, voice finally raising.

Jaskier scooted up the bed until his knees bumped into Geralt’s. Projecting his movements so Geralt could stop him at any point, Jaskier leaned over Geralt, cupping his face with one hand. When Geralt didn’t stop him, Jaskier lifted his head to look into his favorite golden eyes.

“Geralt, she isn’t scared of you, she is feeling guilty.”

“Guilty of what?”

“Of disappointing you, you idiot.”

“She could never disappoint me.”

Jaskier smiled. “I know. But Ciri told me that she wants to see the world on her own, she had loved seeing it with us. Geralt, Ciri has grown up. And she is a wonderful young lady, who can conquer the world if she wants to. But right now, all she wants is for her dad to tell her she is free to see it.”

Geralt looked so confused Jaskier felt a familiar wave of fondness envelop him.

“Why don’t you tell me what exactly you are thinking as much as you can, and we can figure it out together?” Jaskier asked, starting to comb Geralt’s hair. He would never admit it, but Jaskier could attest to the fact that if he did it in the right spot or petted him long enough, Geralt started to purr.

Geralt’s eyebrows drew close as his face took on his endearing look of concentration as he rearranged the words he wanted to say in his head. Jaskier waited patiently, rushing would only do more harm.

Finally, “I was angry with you. And Yennefer. And Ciri. I felt like you were all trying to say that you couldn’t be with me anymore. And that Ciri wanted to leave. Forever.”

Jaskier’s heart ached for the man in front of him, but he waited for him to finish his thoughts.

“When Yen told me I was not letting Ciri have enough freedom, that I was holding her prisoner, I wanted to tell her, ask her, didn’t she remember how dangerous the world was. How many Nilfgaard killed in their quest to get their hands on Ciri? How many innocents, and how many guilty souls lost their lives? And now she wanted me to just happily send Ciri out into that world alone? What was I doing to keep her here, what ill treatment or punishment? I just-” Geralt cut himself off as the words choked up his throat, so many trying to pour out all at once, most nonsensical fragments. The pressure grew until the pain made him feel like his head was going to explode. Without realizing, silent tears started to fall. He did feel when Jaskier wrapped his arms around the Witcher, straddling him till the bard was practically sitting in his lap, holding Geralt against his chest.

The beat of the human heart beneath his ear was steady and true, and Geralt let himself calm down to the sound of it, matching his own breathing to the rise and fall of the one below him. His arms rose to clamp around the bard’s waist in an iron vice, too scared of the world shattering if he loosened his hold.

Jaskier stayed as he was, humming and then softly singing a lullaby from so long ago he had nearly forgotten all the words. 

Geralt went lax in his arms, and when Jaskier glanced down at him, he saw the poor man had fallen asleep. Moving deliberately to avoid jostling his charge too much and risk waking him, Jaskier shuffled back until he was on his back, Geralt’s head and body pillowed on Jaskier’s lower half. The position rendered him immobile, and his legs would surely complain in some time, but for now Jaskier merely closed his eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter is super small, but we are near the end folks!

The next time Jaskier opened his eyes, the scene was so familiar Jaskier had a moment of disorientation that everything that had transpired was just a dream. The bed was cold and draft was coming into the room from the open bedroom door, but the fire in the hearth was roaring. It was Geralt’s cloak falling to his hips along with the blankets he didn’t remember pulling up before sleeping last night that assured him it had not been a dream.  
Jaskier was happy he had made a breakthrough last night. Now it was making sure the follow up went along as planned too.  
He got up and washed his mouth and put on a new shirt and soft linen pants.He was finishing up his morning stretches when the door creaked open, letting in a Geralt who honestly looked far too delicious in the pale light of the early mountain morning.  
Geralt was also carrying a tray that held food. Jaskier fell a little deeper in love.  
“You have the best timing darling!” Jaskier claimed as he lightened the tray from Geralt and took it to the bed, sitting on one end of it and gesturing for Geralt to sit opposite him even as he stuffed his face with breath.  
Geralt smiled his fond smile at the bard’s ridiculousness but did as directed.  
The two finished their meal in peaceful silence, enjoying the chance to bask in each other’s company, no commitments or monsters in the middle to interrupt them.  
Jaskier cleared the plates, placing them on the table, and returned to bed to find Geralt had shifted to lean back against the headboard, boots neatly on the ground. Grinning, Jaskier crawled on the soft sheets until he had curled against Geralt, laying his ear against his Witcher’s heart, arms wrapped around muscled hips. Geralt placed one heavy hand on his back.  
“I’ve been thinking about last night.”  
“I was hoping you would.”  
“Jaskier, does she want to leave me?”  
Jaskier shook his head, “Geralt, my love I feel as though we are having the same conversation over and over again. Ciri loves us, loves you so very much. She is just asking for a little freedom. She was scared to ask you herself because she was fearing you would be having the exact same thoughts you are.” Jaskier pushed to sit straight, capturing the gaze of golden eyes. “Please talk to her.”  
Geralt regarded him for a long while before nodding once.  
Jaskier smiled. Geralt would talk to her, and this whole situation would be resolved. He leaned forward to press a kiss over dry lips. “I love you so very much, Witcher of mine.”  
Geralt grumbled beneath him. “I love you too Jaskier.”  
Oh, how those words made Jaskier feel like he could fly.


	5. Chapter 5

Ciri was training alone, rehearsing the steps to the sword pattern Eskel had been teaching her when she felt a new presence enter the courtyard and turned around to see Geralt.

Ciri lowered her sword, shifting to bring her legs close together, her sword held pointed towards the floor by her right hand. She brushed back the wisps of hair that had come undone during her practice. “Geralt.”

She was nervous, and anxious, but mostly she was scared that she would hurt Geralt. He was one of the strongest people she knew, but over time had shown himself to have a very soft center, and Ciri would hate herself if she caused him any more scars than those he already bore. She adored him so.

“Care for a friendly match?”

Ciri nodded. Rotating the sword in her wrist, Ciri got into the starting stance, bracing herself at the knees. Geralt came to stand opposite her, taking a practice dull steel sword from the rack.

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

Feigning to the right, Geralt stepped to the left, bringing his sword towards her right. Ciri blocked, throwing her whole weight into it before jumping back, bouncing on her toes. Geralt lunged and Ciri blocked, continuing on the defensive right up until Geralt almost had her cornered against the wall. Waiting until he lunged again, Ciri placed her leg against the wall and launched, flying up and striking against Geralt’s shoulder pad and landing with her sword against Geralt’s back, sword tip in the center of his shoulder blades. She was panting, but the victory gave her a rush of adrenaline, happiness making her feel light. That was her mistake of course, because in her second of distraction, Geralt hooked his leg back and ducked away from her sword, pulling her to the ground in an ungraceful sprawl, sword clattering somewhere above her head.

“Careful lion cub, you get cocky in your victory, you end up dead.” Geralt’s voice was serious, but his eyes betrayed his amusement. Ciri stared into them in shock for a second before a grin covered her face, giggling and then laughing so hard her stomach started to cramp. Geralt released her to roll into her side, keeping a hand on her hip.

When Ciri finally recovered, her face felt flushed, she was sure she was probably pink in the face. Geralt was sitting on his haunches, eyes still alight with delight, and a smile on his face that made him look so much younger. “Done laughing Princess?”

Ciri nodded, grin still plastered on her face. Rubbing her cheek with her gloved hand, she brushed back the hair that had come loose from her bun. Geralt only had a moment to see the light of mischievousness in her eyes before he was almost sent falling backwards as Ciri launched herself at him, throwing her arms around his broad shoulders. She nuzzled into his cheek, tucking herself into his neck. “I love you Geralt.”

Geralt’s arms tightened around her. “My beloved lion cub.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you myself.”

“I never wanted you to feel imprisoned.”

“I feel as though I have betrayed your trust in me.”

“I have tried my best not to lie to you so far, and that is not a tradition I intend on breaking, so I will be honest. When Yennefer confronted me, when Jaskier confessed he had been keeping this a secret, when my brothers and father did not see my side, it did feel so. I have grown complacent with taking you all for granted. I have lived the majority of my life trusting only myself, because it was the way to minimize my chances of hurting others, or of hurting myself. “

Ciri finally dislodged from his embrace, sitting on her own haunches. Geralt wiped the tears that had started to fall from her eyes.

“Geralt, no.”

“There must have been a reason you couldn’t tell me. I am sorry if I made you feel like you couldn’t come to me.”

Ciri felt tears start to fall again. She would never have withheld this from him if she thought Geralt would think that she loved him any less or didn’t trust him.

“Geralt, listen to me alright? I love you. We may been tied by fate, and you were charged to take care of me, but you were under no reason to treat me so kindly or give me another family. After grandmother,” Ciri gulped, time had eased the loss, “after grandmother and Eist, when I still hadn’t found you, and Dara left, I was so sure that I would never have a family again. But I found you. And you brought me to Yennefer. And darling Jask. And then you brought me here, you gave me Uncle Eskel, Uncle Lambert. You gave me grandfather. You all gave me so much love and risked your lives for me probably far more times than any of you will ever tell me. You gave me a family. A home. You gave me a way to be strong. You gave me so many things Geralt, I can’t imagine what my life would look like without you. Hell, I wouldn’t bet that I would still be alive without you.”

Geralt grasped the back of her neck and pulled her to his chest, swallowing against the lump of emotion in his throat. Ciri was shaking with silent cries, and Geralt just held her tight, reminded of holding her just so after too many nightmares.

“You are one of the best things that happened to me Ciri. You, Jaskier, and Yennefer are the lights of my life. Vesemir and the other masters meant well when they taught us not to form connections, because connections are distractions-”

“-and distractions get you killed.” Ciri finished. Geralt chuckled.

“He was wrong though. Connections make you more vulnerable true, but they also make you so much stronger. I have never had as strong a reason to come back from a hunt as much as I did after I met the three of you.”

“I never want to leave you Geralt. Why would I want to leave all of this?”

“I don’t want to keep you-”

“No offense Ger- but one of my parents is an incredibly powerful sorceress, one is an incredibly annoying bard, and my two uncles are fearsome Witchers. You couldn’t keep me against my will even if you wanted to.”

Geralt chuckled. 

“I suppose I should be on the lookout then. I hear the bard especially can make a Witcher deaf with his singing.”

Ciri giggled, hugging her father close again.

“What do you say to another round, this time without the Cat Witcher tactics? Lambert needs to stop teaching you those.”

“But those are the most fun Ger!”

“Get up cub, and get in position. Today you fight like a wolf.”

Ciri smirked as she did what Geralt told her to. “Not just today Geralt, I am always a Wolf.”

Geralt grinned wolfishly, baring his teeth as a feral delight took a hold of him “Good answer pup.”

Letting out a matching battle cry, Ciri rushed forward.


	6. Chapter 6

Ciri and Geralt were rehashing their spar, going over the moves Ciri had used and the tactics she could improve upon. They had both just returned from the hot springs and were making their way to the dining hall, Ciri having looped her arm into Geralt’s elbow.

“I don’t have your strength though, if I ran headlong at an opponent as big as you, I’d be the one on the ground, with a headache on top of that.” Ciri argued.

“I’m not telling you to headbutt your opponent Ciri, I am saying that if you have a chance for a running start, use the momentum to feign dead center and at the last moment swing into their side. Especially if they aren’t having a shield, you’ll have one open spot to attack.”

“And if they have a shield?”

“The impact will numb that side for a moment, so use the weakness to your advantage and hit fast and true.”

Ciri considered the words, letting Geralt guide her as she lost herself in her thoughts. Geralt led them to their destination, but he too was thinking over the last couple of days. And how much Cirilla had grown. From the scared princess who had lost everything and placed her trust in a stranger her grandmother had told her to find, to the fine young warrior at his side. It had truly been an honour to watch her, to train her, and, to the extent he was able to, raise her as well.

The last few days had been hard, he had gone back into a shell he had broken, and found the shards cut even deeper than when the shell constricted his heart. He had gotten used to his family, used to the companionship, believed the words they said that they would always be with him. Ciri asking, and not directly but through Yennefer, the fear had arisen in him like a spectre he had killed. His heart was still thumping a little harder than normal, and he vowed to appreciate every moment a little more. There was one thing everyone had been right about though. Ciri was not the helpless girl he had found in the forest so many years ago, he had helped her become the lioness she was always meant to be. And how magnificent she was.

They were approaching the dining hall when they heard all the voices, more than the usual ones. Looking at each other, the pair entered the hall through the back entrance, and stood stunned at the scene in front of them.

“Geralt! Lion cub!” Lambert yelled, voice betraying his level of drunkenness. Though considering he was actually smiling, that may have been enough too. Jaskier and Vesemir were standing at the end of the table, and what appeared to be a cake in front of them. To their right, Yennefer, Triss, and Tissaia were now looking in their way. And in the table next to the center one, Eskel was playing cards with Coen and Aiden, and when had those two appeared? Geralt had a lot of questions, but Ciri lit up at all the guests and made a beeline for the sorceresses, throwing her arms around Triss.

Geralt ambled towards Jaskier, receiving a slap on the back from Eskel, and a tankard of Lambert’s toxic brew in his hand. Shrugging, he downed a big gulp, hissing as the concoction burned its way down his throat. Vesemir gave him a nod, and Jaskier was watching Ciri, the fire illuminating him with a glow. Embracing him from behind, Geralt nuzzled behind his ear.

“I take it this is your doing, little lark?”

“Hmmm, I thought after the last few days spent walking on eggshells, we all deserved a chance to let loose. And then I realized we never did properly celebrate defeating Nilfgaard and restoring order to the kingdom, so: party! Yennefer was thankfully in a good mood and agreed to open a few portals. I do owe her a few songs though. ” Jaskier explained as he turned in his Wolf’s embrace. “You look better.”

Geralt gave him that smile Jaskier had come to classify as him. “I am sorry for my behavior, old habits die harder than I suspected. I promise never to suspect your loyalty for me again.”

Jaskier pressed a kiss to his cheek. “That is a step in the right direction. But remember, its not just our loyalty you can trust, but our love for you.”

“I know.”

“Good, so what is your decision regarding Ciri?”

Geralt took in a deep breath before exhaling, staring at the girl in question. “She needs to see the Continent, on her own.”

Jaskier grinned before pulling Geralt in for a deep kiss, ignoring the catcalls from the other Witchers. He did give a middle finger to Lambert’s explicit compliment though.

“Is the cake for me?” Ciri asked when the two finally separated to breathe, both sporting a healthy blush.

“What? Oh yes darling, Vesemir helped make it. Now come, we have a lot to celebrate!”

Ciri cheered and went to stand between her Jask and Geralt, cutting the cake and feeding small pieces to everyone.

As his daughter laughed and enjoyed spending time with her family, Geralt settled. He would always fear for Ciri, always worry, always be anxious. But he had Jaskier and Yen, and his brothers too to set him right. If their lion cub ever did get in trouble, the trouble better beware, because the girl had a whole army’s worth of power in her family to rescue her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, here's the last chapter, I hope you liked the resolution!  
> Please let me know your thoughts, I love getting feedback from all of you!

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked the story! If you do, please let me know!
> 
> If you want to chat, find me at Fangirlshrewt97.tumblr.com!


End file.
